


Soul Machine

by foggynite



Series: Let It Burn [1]
Category: Was Tun Wenn's Brennt? | What To Do In Case Of Fire (2001)
Genre: Explicit Language, M/M, Maik is a bitter ex, Nudity, Pining, Spoilers, The shower scene, Voyeurism, though it is denied by Maik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 03:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggynite/pseuds/foggynite
Summary: Maik left it all behind, but it's with him every day.[Prelude to the shower scene...]
Relationships: Maik/Tim (Was Tun Wenn's Brennt?)
Series: Let It Burn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211987





	Soul Machine

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was written back between 2002 and 2005. Trying to figure out the history of my own fics has been an archaeological expedition…
> 
> Original Notes: Takes place during the movie, so yeah. Spoilers. Written for the one hundred one fandom challenge. Instead of sticking completely to my prompt, this is rather more inspired by it since I couldn’t really see these two in the situation. So yes. Hope that’s all right. Title taken from the song Mouth by Bush.

Maik knows why he’s here, what brought him, and it makes him want to go back to his expensive apartment and decadent lifestyle. Because.

Because he gave him everything before, and it wasn’t enough for either of them. Because Maik isn’t Flo, will never be that ideal perfection Tim wants, and Maik left this all behind him twelve years ago. He left it and it’s been with him everyday, every empty fuck, every creative partner he’s had that hasn’t been Tim. Every silent moment alone that Maik spends, and for twelve years he’s forced himself to forget, because who needs love when you’ve got money? 

Tim certainly never loved him, never looked at him as long as he had His Flo. Now she’s getting married, and Maik isn’t sure Tim knows. Probably doesn’t from the way the other man’s been staring at her adoringly. One coy look from her, and Tim’s planning how to break into the police barracks with no regard for his own self. She smiles, and touches his arm, and no one says anything because Flo was always the one to get Tim to do what no one else wanted.

Yeah, Tim never loved him. Maik figured that out twelve years ago.

His hand convulses around the plastic suit cover and he forces himself to relax. First rule of advertising: Be in control. He starts up the old, mildewed stairs, remembering the creaks and finding some new ones, and with each step he pulls his game face on tighter. He needs Tim to cooperate because this is Maik’s future on the line, and that’s all. The suit is to keep Maik from being embarrassed when Tim shows up at the police compound in his leather pants and ratty sweater tomorrow. The entire plan rests on their credibility as a professional news team, and Tim needs to look the part.

That’s all. And he doesn’t let himself picture the other man in Maik’s own clothes. Doesn’t think about all the times he peeled Tim’s clothes off him. Just. Doesn’t.

Not surprising, the front door is unlocked. There are signs of the latest police raid in the chainsaw marks on the wood, and he smirks as he quietly pushes it shut. Some things never change.

When he turns to the main room and finds Tim showering obliviously in the old claw foot tub, Maik falters for only a moment. But he’s nothing if not an opportunist, so he gently lays the suit to the side and lounges in the beat-up armchair that’s been here forever. He waits and watches the way the water runs over Tim’s ass. Let’s himself admire the unselfconscious way Tim soaps his chest and arms, the glimpse of light pubic hair blocked by the sharp angle of his hip, all in a purely aesthetic fashion.

He wonders if Tim still tastes like ashes. Chapped lips and unfiltered cigarettes, and Maik quit smoking a long time ago. He ignores the twinge in his gut when he remembers Tim leaning forward, pressing the tips of their cigarettes together to steal a light, and Flo giggling as she draped over Tim’s shoulder. Always there, and she always tasted like decay to Maik. He’d had an open invitation to join her and Tim on their ratty old mattress any time he wanted, but he knew and she knew that he wasn’t there for her. Tim was the only one who couldn’t see that.

So maybe sometimes he misses the glide of Tim’s skin under his fingertips and his lips. A sensation he hasn’t forgotten despite the years and lovers in between. The high gasping noises Tim would make, the curl of his fist in Maik’s hair. The feel of his tongue across Maik’s collar bone.

A thousand conversations without saying a word, and in the end it was all empty, meaningless. He used to think they would never be apart, that it could continue the way it was indefinitely, Maik and Tim, and Flo there in between them, a ready excuse. A denial for both of them. Only now Maik’s stopped lying to himself. At least about that.

Tim half turns again, rinsing his head and his face, and Maik waits to be noticed. There are more lines around Tim’s mouth and eyes, more than Maik thought the other man would ever get. Creases and it’s like they’re both slowly cracking with time, the faces they thought they owned really just clay masks.

Tim accused Maik of selling out, and yeah, Maik did. He took advantage of the opportunities presented to him, made a name for himself and left the squalor of Manchow Street for the comfort of shallow relationships and a world full of beautiful people that kiss his ass because they need him. They need Maik to succeed, to be validated, to live in the manner they’d like. And as he garners more and more attention from the advertising industry, he tells himself that it’s enough. He may be selling himself, his self-respect and his principles, but at least he’s getting his asking price with a nice profit margin. He doesn’t want for anything, because he can buy it if he has to. Every new gadget and innovation, all the conveniences of life wrapped in pretty plastic.

If he dismisses every casual fuck, every empty flirtation, as decidedly lacking, it’s because those people don’t meet his standards. His stomach sinks farther every time he realizes he’s looking for someone to challenge him, to disagree with him and call him an asshole, and publicly humiliate him if possible. Someone who laughs like he’s two steps from insane, and goes along with Maik’s crazy schemes, and gets him hot just from smiling. Someone who’ll suck his cock like he was born for it and hold him down by the wrists until he begs, and smirk at him the entire time.

And now Maik’s disgusted with himself because he’s over this. Over Tim. He’s made it twelve years without him and proven that he doesn’t need him to be happy. He’s perfectly content with his life the way it is.

He flicks on the movie projector and smirks as Tim’s head whips around.

Maik’s the one who has everything now. Tim can rule over his castle of squalor and mildew for another twelve years if he wants. Because yeah, he used to think they had everything, but Maik was still able to leave it all behind.

(Even if sometimes he thinks it never really left him.)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr


End file.
